


it's nothing

by foxflowers



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Implied Relationships, Not stated outright but eh, Took a bit of artistic licence with the last chapter, nothing explicit but M to be safe, old title: memories, read between the lines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2019-10-27 08:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxflowers/pseuds/foxflowers
Summary: Carmen has an old friend. Gray doesn't know her yet.Now updated for season 2.this grew into something i couldn't control, so hooray for works!





	1. The Train

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Spectre_Anon for editing! Go check out their stuff!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmen runs into an old friend on the train.

i

 

The scene was set, easily; the picturesque views of Paris at night, the scarlet cloak and hat, the smirk of satisfaction. Interpol was as easily avoidable as ever, a duck under the arm and a shot with her grapple and she was gone. As easy to grasp as air - that had always been her style.

 

First class. A treat, Player said. Again, her style. She admired it for a moment before pulling out her spoils. Her hand was in the small black bag when the door opened. He was here.

 

“Well, well.”

 

A voice she hadn’t heard in too long. Or was it not long enough? Carmen couldn’t remember. All she remembered was the harshness in his eyes on the dig site.

 

A whirring reminded her to school her features into something more confident as she faced him.

 

Gray. No - she shook herself. Crackle.

 

“Blast from the past, eh?” His smirk was in place, and hers wasn’t. Why wasn’t it? She barely had time to react to the electricity before Player’s panicked voice stopped reaching her, and she dropped her bag.

 

Her second nature sassy responses to his banter fell into place easily, a fact she was grateful for as she picked up the pieces of her lost composure. She knew he was coming. Why was she so shaken?

 

“It’s time we tied up loose ends,” she found herself saying, and she knew she wanted to convince him. Wanted to show him what he was doing. What she was doing. Why he should help her. Why she—

 

“Or should I call you Black Sheep?”

 

A flashback. The day they met. She could vaguely sense herself telling the story, and -

 

_ No, no. _

 

“You really schooled me that day, huh.”

 

“I thought you should know who you were dealing with.”

 

“Well, it seems I still don’t know.” He sounded confused, and a touch hurt. Like she had hidden something from him.  _ No, no weakness, not now— _

 

“I’m a professional thief, just like you.”

 

“No, you were never like the rest of us,” he said. “How  _ did _ you ever end up in crime school?”

 

The threat washed over her like a sedative and she fell into her backstory as easy as falling asleep. Vaguely, she noticed his eyes narrow when she mentioned Player - or rather, the lack of details she gave.

 

She described how sheepish he looked when they met -  _ properly met  _ \- at the bunker. She remembered the warm feeling from his defending her, the wink that made her shiver - and just caught herself from describing those.

 

Instead, she changed it to something more subtle, something about making friends, and enemies.

 

She remembered his story, how turning out the lights was easier,  _ better _ , than turning on the lights at the glorious Sydney Opera House, and wished again he was using that for good. Carmen reminded herself why she was doing this. Change his mind, make him realise. Change his mind. 

 

As she talked about him, her voice went soft unwillingly, unable to pull out the same confident tone she’d sustained the whole story. Instead, her voice came out heavy, heart pulling her whole being down and lacing her with regret.

 

His eyes grew softer too, she noticed in the back of her head. His jaw clenched, as if he wanted to say something, do something, stop her. But she was a snowball rolling downhill, gathering speed, and gathering more snow.

 

She recounted his defense of her to the council, in the softest voice she had yet to speak in, and knew she had given herself away but couldn’t seem to stop. That moment solidified it for her, that he helped her when she went too far, pushed too hard — 

 

The fact that she pushed him away after she failed stuck out in her mind. Maybe if she had confided in him things would have been different. Not vocalising that thought took all the effort she had.

 

Instead, she told him about the archaeology dig site with a hardness and disgust that were nowhere near forced. That her classmates - her friends? - were willing to kill for a steal… it was horrific, and almost too much to bear. That poor man’s face would haunt her forever.

 

Not to mention, trying to keep yourself tied to your roots was something Carmen could very much respect.

 

She told him so, and the momentary guilt that overtook him for one second was something she clung to like a lifeline. The hardness that overcame his features a second later almost made her think that the guilt was imaginary.

 

“What can I say? Graduation was a game changer.” He told her then about the meeting. About the Villain’s International League of Evil. Almost like he was trying to justify himself. But to who? To himself? To her?

 

“My entire upbringing was a lie. Stealing does harm people.  _ Especially _ stealing lives.” The realisation had hit Carmen not long ago and had hurt like almost nothing else. Gray - Crackle - looked guilty again, and this time, the expression didn’t change.

 

Until he saw the sign.

 

The weapon buzzed louder, and Carmen tried her best not to look too disappointed. “I’ll cut to the chase.”

 

Explaining her grand escape was nothing. What was something was watching him default to VILE’s pet.

 

“We miss you, Black Sheep.” Oh, how it hurt! He was talking for VILE, as if he was them - which, he was, but she didn’t want to think about that. It was easy to tell the truth - they wanted her to stop stealing from them - and whilst the point about her proving herself stung, he was wrong. It wasn’t all she’d ever wanted.

 

He wanted her to come “home”, as if the awful island ever was a home. And then it was clear - they would be leaving apart - different sides, different worlds. The thought physically pained her, and it was an effort not to outwardly show it. 

 

He turned the dial up to full, and looked so upset that she knew he wouldn’t kill her, but she sassed him anyway and went for the weapon.

 

Knocking him out was easy, leaving him for Interpol was harder. She knew VILE would break him out, it just didn’t sit easy leaving him in the hands of the police.

 

Oh, well. He’d be fine.

 

She, on the other hand… 

 

“Red! You’re back online!”

 

Player’s voice was a comfort, and she hopped off the train and walked from the platform, making sure to wink at the inspector as he found Gray ( _ Crackle _ ), her smirk firmly in place. Red coats and hats were easily replaceable. The Parisian skyline was as beautiful as ever, and her smirk shattered at the sight of it.

 

“Rendezvous point down in the lake. You okay, Carmen?”

 

Was she? She swallowed down the encounter, the disappointment, Gray.

 

“Yep. I’m off!”


	2. The Opera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmen runs into an old friend at the Opera.

ii

 

It could only be fate that they ran into each other once more, on the opposite side of the globe. Again, the scene was set; the deep auburn of the scene the colour of her hair, and the dress on the fantastic opera singer the same shade of scarlet as her signature style. It was only fitting they shared a name, too.

 

“You there!”

 

Player’s voice dimmed and she kicked herself when her heart started screaming.

 

Steeling herself, she turned to find —

 

Gray.

 

And not Crackle.  _ Gray _ . The soft face she remembered in daydreams, the kind eyes she saw in the past.

 

Something was wrong.

 

In case she was wrong, she launched into questioning. “What job are you pulling tonight, Gray?” It hurt to say his name, and then he corrected her. He  _ corrected _ her.

 

“First, it’s  _ Gray-ham _ .” What? “And second, since electricians don’t seem to intimidate you, I’ll be more than happy to have security escort you out.”

 

Denial is a river.

 

“You don’t honestly expect me to believe this innocent act, do you?”

 

He grabbed her arm and she didn’t pull away, his grip solid but soft. He said something about not having a wristband, but his eyes hadn’t flickered once in recognition, nor had his face shifted to give away a sinister plot.

 

Her face caved before she could stop it, and she muttered a half broken, “You really don’t remember me?”

 

He let go of her and gave her a once over.

 

“Fashion statement aside, mate, you’d be hard to forget.” The raw irony hit her like a punch to the gut as she forced her expression not to crack again. He didn’t remember her. He really didn’t remember her. The small smile on his face did nothing to help matters.

 

“If there is a next time, I promise not to make that mistake again.” Oh, the soft honesty in his voice! Her face slackened a little in response to the comment as his small smile transformed into something suggestive. How had this happened? How did he forget her?

 

“Guess you just, uh, remind me of someone I used to know,” she felt herself saying, glad her mind seemed to think it was better suited to controlling what she says than her heart, which was trying to escape her ribcage.

 

They reached the door and he told her to enjoy the show. She nodded and beamed, and as he turned his back, caught the door before it closed. 

 

She watched him walk away before shooting off in the opposite direction,  _ l’amour est un oiseau rebelle _ swirling in the air around her. 

 

“Player, did you…?”

 

“Yeah, I heard all of it.”

 

It couldn’t have been a trick. It couldn’t have been… What did they do to him?

 

It was a second thought, but it spun around in her mind until she felt dizzy.

 

Player’s suspicion was discarded almost immediately, and she forced herself to focus on the mission, getting lost in it.

 

When she spotted him later that night, she was saying he could help her before she even realised.

 

“Are you sure, Red? He did try to electrocute you on a train,” Player said hesitantly.

 

She insisted it was VILE, and dropped to the ground before Player could say anything else.

 

He must have heard her land, because he turned around, and his eyes lit up.

 

“Hey! I remember you! Ol’ Red Sneakeroo!” He was walking towards her. She met him halfway. “Good memory.”

 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not really.”

 

There was a pause, and she frowned.

 

He gazed at her with a charming smile. “So, looking to get backstage for an autograph?”

 

His question almost made her laugh, but instead she told him about the outback. Focus on the mission. Maybe he can help. Maybe he can be on her side  _ for once— _

 

He was still smiling, but his eyes looked genuinely regretful. “I wish. Something fried the soundboard tonight. I have to pull an early morning shift to troubleshoot.” He pulled out a pen and some paper.

 

She couldn’t hold back any longer. “You mentioned having a bad memory. Why is that?”

 

His smile turned a little forced, as he explained how he got a jolt. “There’s more than an entire year of my life I can’t remember.” Carmen  _ hurt _ . He had no family, no friends who had noticed? Who had said anything?

 

She couldn’t stop her face morphing into a look of sorrow. “A whole year…?”

 

He cracked a joke about being lucky to have his job back, but Carmen could hear it was laced with bitterness. She still took the bait. “Oh, I can think of worse jobs.”

 

He handed her the card, and she forced herself to focus, schooling her features into something that looked normal. She could still feel the distant fondness in her smile and hoped he wasn’t looking too closely. “Is this the address of an outback guide?” She kept her face smooth.

 

He shook his head dismissively. “A good guide’s easy to find online.” His smile turned into something more softer, more hopeful. “This is the address of my favourite cafe in Sydney. I’ll be there Friday night at 8pm. You?”

 

Her eyes met his as her heart struggled to escape her chest. She couldn’t keep herself from smiling in kind. “Let’s see if I can make it back in one piece.”

 

She walked past him, down the stairs of the beautiful Opera House, feeling lighter than air. He called out, “Hey! I didn’t get your name!”

 

That, she could give him without hesitation. “Carmen!” 

 

She knew he was watching her go, and decided that she would go to that cafe on the water, even if she had to go broken and burned.

 

\----

 

Player was ranting in her ear when she caught sight of him at the cafe.

 

He was sitting alone, craning his neck to scan the faces of each person who walked by. Looking for her.

 

“I know, Player. But before he was Crackle he was Gray, and Gray was like a big brother to me.” She decided it would be a bad idea to tell him how those feelings had evolved, flourished, when she wasn’t watching.

 

She stood next to the traffic light as she readied herself to walk. “I thought I’d lost him for good.”  _ Cried over it. _ “But this could be… I don’t know. A do-over?” She barely let herself believe it. “A second chance?”

 

The spotlight behind her lit up the beautiful billboard broadcasting Carmen, and it was a wonder he hadn’t seen her.

 

Player’s paranoia in her ear was starting to make her sick. “What if they’re waiting to see you with him?”

 

The words hit her right in the chest, and she had to force back a twisted sob in shock. She didn’t worry about herself, but…

 

He checked his watch, and caught sight of her. He grinned happily, the edges of his eyes crinkling, and raised his hand.

 

She caught his eye, gave him a smile she knew was heartbroken, and leapt over the bannister behind her as a bus went by.

 

She didn’t bother hiding her devastated frown as she walked back to the hotel. “I can’t let VILE see me with him. Not for my sake, for his.”

 

She couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t insert herself into his life when he had a fresh start. She almost choked on tears explaining it to Player, but caught herself. He would be happy.

 

Maybe one day he would remember, and go back to VILE. Maybe one day he’d remember and come back to her. Maybe one day, when all of this was over, and she didn’t have to be Carmen Sandiego, Master Thief, she could go back to him, and just be Carmen.

 

Until then.


	3. The Ballet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmen runs into an old friend, but this time it's purposeful.

iii

 

Despite her reservations and protests, the scene was set again; San Diego’s heat was nowhere near as stifling as the name Crackle on Player’s lips, and Zack’s incessant hammering was making her jumpy. 

 

The few moments it took for them to disregard his involvement, Carmen reshuffled her thoughts so that he wasn’t in them. It was simple enough - just focus on the caper. Focus on discovering her background. Focus on saving lives.

 

So the talks of New Zealand didn’t get to her, not really - she didn’t think about how close she would be to him, with only a few hours of ocean between them. 

 

But as if fate didn’t like her trying to forget, they needed an electrician. Someone they could pull away, someone like— 

 

“Crackle. He was the finest criminal electrician VILE ever had.” Shadowsan was to the point, but Carmen didn’t like sharp things around Gray. She didn’t like anything dangerous around Gray.

 

“Gray is out of the game. We can’t pull him back in.” Her voice sounded hollow in her own ears, and her lungs couldn’t pull in enough air. It took effort to keep her expression neutral.

 

“Not even for the good guys?” Player kept talking, but everything in her stopped at the question. She remembered a train, the desperation of wanting him on her side, the craving for him to just understand—

 

But she couldn’t let him be involved. Not when he’d be in so, so much danger. “If Bellum were to lay eyes on Gray, his safety would be compromised.”

 

Player brought up the map again, trying to convince her. And she did know, deep down, that if they wanted to pull this off they needed him, but that was so hard to accept that she refused to do it unless he stayed in the dark.

 

She nodded reluctantly to Player, a plan coming together in her mind - one that would keep Gray out of the danger she was so afraid of.

 

\----

 

The air was warm, as it often was in Australia, but when she finally laid eyes on him she could swear her heart was warmer.

 

He was reading, as she remembered he used to do at the academy when they had that rare moment to themselves. His hand was curled around the handle of his mug, holding it delicately, and Carmen stole her gaze away before approaching him - it wouldn’t do if he spotted her staring. 

 

He looked up at her as she drew nearer, before turning back to his book with a smirk. “You’re late.”

 

She smiled fondly before she could help herself. “Fashionably, I hope.”

 

He didn't look up again, and it occurred to her that perhaps he was upset about her leaving without a word.  _ Duh, Carmen. _

 

“I’m sorry I stood you up, Gray.”

 

He put his mug down, and Carmen struggled to keep her attention on the conversation and not on the lip stains he left. 

 

He lifted a finger without looking her way. “Um, it’s—”

 

“Graham.” She tried desperately to forget that he doesn’t know her, or their past, but the wound reopened, and she prayed he didn’t look while her expression crumbled for a split second. “Right.”

 

Thankfully, he didn’t look, and she continued into the lie she had recited to herself the entire flight there. “I was called away on business at the last minute.”

 

He looked at her then, and it nearly took her breath away - he was still so devastatingly handsome, and he looked at her so openly that it almost whisked her away in a memory of their academy days, when he would ask about her past so kindly she wished she had something to tell him. “What… kind of business?”

 

He so clearly wanted to know more about her, but was obviously worried about scaring her off again. It burned that she couldn’t stick around.

 

The lie fell out of her mouth when she reminded herself she was doing it to keep him safe. “I run an international charity for abandoned children. In fact, that’s the reason I came to see you today.”

 

He didn’t outwardly react to that, other than a raised eyebrow. “Oh?”

 

His expression was soft, and his smile was still quietly disbelieving but happy, and her heart felt even warmer knowing she caused it. It felt private - something only for her. The thought made her shiver.

 

She continued, trying to keep herself on task, but she couldn’t stop herself from leaning toward him, his smile reflected on her face. “I am sponsoring a big fundraiser in Auckland this week. Selections from Swan Lake.”

 

His smile widened, and she knew he knew exactly what she was asking. “Tchaikovsky. I’ve lit a few Russian ballets at the Sydney Opera House.” He leant forward slightly, and she could have counted the freckles on his nose if she wanted.

 

She couldn’t help the flirtatious tone that took over her voice, and hoped Player wasn’t listening in. “ _ Fortunately _ for me, our lighting technician dropped out, and I’m hoping you can help.” His smile transformed into a smirk when he heard how glad she was.

 

He met her eyes, and leant forward even further, a look of vague exasperation on his face. A flush went through her as he almost brushed her nose. “One condition.” His voice was barely a murmur, and she could taste the coffee on his breath.

 

He sat back swiftly, and she missed the proximity immediately. He had a smirk in place, as if he hadn’t just made her breathless, as if she wouldn’t remember his closeness later and curl her toes. He pointed at his coffee. “You have that cuppa with me afterwards.” 

 

She stared at the white mug for a second, the contents still steaming hot, before registering his words. Trying to calm her heart rate, she stood up and smirked at him. “I’ll have the organisation book you a flight.”

 

His gaze was on her as she walked away, she knew, so she took care to walk with long strides to exaggerate her hips. Only later in the hotel would she question her own intentions, as Player pointedly avoided asking her anything about it.

 

She couldn’t find it in her to regret it, however - it was familiar to tease him - but she really didn’t want to admit to herself that he had made her warm in more ways than one. 

 

Zack and Ivy weren’t there to distract her from her thoughts, but she banished him anyway and asked Player about the interior of the lab instead.

 

Nevertheless, he was there, his closeness in the back of her mind the entire time she plotted with Player.

 

She supposed that made sense - he was integral to their plans, and he was mentioned in every other sentence.

 

But it was later, when Player had gone and she was in bed, when he found his way into her thoughts again. The caper was tomorrow and she needed to focus, needed to  _ sleep _ , but her mind kept wandering to him, and what would’ve happened if she had leaned just a little closer and tasted the coffee on his tongue and not his breath—

 

She cut off that train of thinking immediately, and rolled over to face the wall. She kept her mind carefully blank until her eyes drooped closed.

 

\----

 

She was just about to touch the device when everything went to hell.

 

She never would’ve thought hearing Gray’s voice would make her afraid, but that fear only doubled when she heard Bellum’s voice a second later, roaring her name furiously.

 

She glanced to the right to see the mad scientist advancing, then behind her to see Gray’s confused face and very nearly cursed before sprinting back towards him and grabbing his hand, pulling him along. “What kind of concert hall is this?”

 

She spat out the first thing that came to mind as they rounded a corner, trying to pump her legs faster, trying to just keep him  _ away _ from the danger she was so terrified of.

 

The next corridor had agents that saw her before she saw them, and she cursed outwardly this time. 

 

She turned to Gray, who looked equal parts confused and worried. “Stay down.” 

 

She wasn’t worried about the agents - they were nothing compared to her acrobatics - but one of their electricity rods rolled over to him, and she hoped it didn’t make him remember; the Parisian train flashed through her mind, and she started towards him when—

 

“Thought you could give ol’ Neal the slip, eh?”

 

Carmen whirled around and eyed the operative. She couldn’t let him see Gray - no one could know he was here - so she ran at him with a right and left hook. He slipped underneath her and pulled her arms behind her back, gloating, “Little known fact: this eel has quite the grip!” 

 

Disgust crawled through her at the thought of his weird trail getting on her spotless coat, but he pushed firmly against her neck and her revulsion gave way to pain, keen and sharp through her shoulders.

 

She grunted, and struggled to free her arms from his death grip when he suddenly let go of her, and she fell to the ground to see electricity coursing through him. He slumped and revealed Gray behind him, wielding the rod as if it were an extension of his arm. For a moment, Carmen was scared that he remembered - but he tossed the weapon away without even looking at it and offered her a hand. “You... don’t run a children’s charity.”

 

She couldn’t stop the smile that overtook her face.“I’ll explain over that coffee.” She took his hand and he helped her up, and Carmen tried hard not to focus on the warmth of his fingertips through her gloves. Instead, she kept a tight grip on his hand and kept running. 

 

They found the emergency stairs without any more trouble, and Carmen called for Zack and Ivy to get Gray out of there. Their responses were muffled, however, by the sound of Bellum’s voice being broadcasted.

 

“Carmen Sandiego,” Her voice purred, “Surrender, or I will discharge an electromagnetic pulse from my very own sky tower. One that will disable every shred of technology in Auckland - hospitals, emergency services, air traffic control will  _ all _ be in disarray. Only you can avert this disaster by turning yourself in.” 

 

Carmen’s thoughts scattered even further at the sound of Gray’s increasingly confused tone. “Carmen? Who is that?”

 

Fear speared through her veins. “Do you recognise the voice?”

 

He glanced at the ceiling briefly before meeting her eyes. “Don’t think so, but what are we gonna do?”

 

Her mind connected the dots quickly, and she grabbed his hand again before racing up the stairs. Dr Bellum had her own sky tower - meaning the device was at the top. And with Gray here…

 

The roof was only two flights higher, and she pushed the metal door open without much effort. What was more annoying, however, was that when Bellum had said “sky tower” she really hadn’t been joking about the “tower” part.

 

Carmen braced herself, then looked to Gray with a sly smile. “Afraid of heights?”

 

He looked confused to see the expression on her, but answered anyway, “What? No,”

 

She held out her hand, and he gripped it immediately, and his faith in her warmed her heart. She pulled him closer, and the shock on his face and the feeling of his arms around her waist nearly made her stutter out her next sentence. “Hang on tight. Don’t let go.”

 

The time it took for her hook to catch the ledge of the pedestal was almost enough time for Carmen to completely lose herself to the feeling of his body against her - firm, comforting, and oh-so familiar - but instead she grit her teeth against it and tried to focus on the cable. 

 

His screaming as she pulled them up would have been laughable if she wasn’t so terrified of letting him go. She thanked her lucky stars they made it, but she caught sight of the machine and gratefulness flew out the window. 

 

Gray pulled up beside her, seeming rather calm despite the situation. “Can you deactivate it?” She asked, eyeing the sparking electricity.

 

He looked at her incredulously. “I’m just a lighting tech! What makes you think I know anything about industrial-grade electric?”

 

She smiled at him in a way she hoped was less fond and more encouraging. “It’s a hunch. Roll with it.”

 

He turned back to the device, scanning it. “I don’t even know what I’m looking at.” He glanced back to her and must have taken note of her desperate eyes because he sighed, leaned toward a panel at the front and asked, “It won’t blow up in our faces, will it?”

 

She tried to keep her tone even, but worry bled through. “Focus and hurry.”

 

He shook his head in exasperation, and pulled the panel off. “I just don’t—” He caught sight of something clearly familiar and grinned. “Oh wait, what’s this?” 

 

He reached in and yanked out a square box with wires poking out the top. The machine started blaring immediately, clearly noticing something was wrong. “That oughta do it!”

 

Carmen turned towards him, unable to stop a soft smile forming on her face. She held out a hand. “Do you trust me?”

 

He glanced over the balcony, and turned back to her with a hesitant grin. “Hang on tight, don’t let go?”

 

Her heart nearly melted in her chest, and when she went to pull him closer, he met her halfway. They fell off the balcony together, and Carmen’s awe of him once more gave way to fear.

 

She gripped him tightly as her glider deployed, and cringed inwardly when it shuddered, clearly not meant for two. 

 

She tried to say as much, but nothing came out, as suddenly the feel of him wrapped around her made her heartbeat skyrocket, warmth blossoming in her cheeks and down her spine.

 

Immediately shoving those thoughts aside, she pulled his head back to meet her eyes. “This glider isn’t designed for two.”

 

His eyes, chocolate and warm, gave her a look of concern. “We’re going down like a kiwi?” His face was so close, and Carmen could barely string two thoughts together. He mistook her silence for misunderstanding. “Flightless bird, national symbol of—”

 

She snapped out of it and pulled him back into her neck. “Brace yourself.”

 

The landing would have been better if she’d actually succeeded in breaking the fall for him like she intended to - but in her distraction, she’d retracted the glider too late, and, to her horror, let go of him instead of rolling them over.

 

She slid for a few metres, dirt getting into her hair and on her coat. A distant part of her bemoaned the stains, but when opened her eyes to see Gray lying face down and not moving, her appearance was forgotten in favour of white-hot dread spiking into the pit of her stomach.

 

She clambered over to him. “Gray?” He didn’t move. She rolled him over, fear shivering down her spine. “Gray!”

 

Her heart stopped when he frowned, then opened his eyes. They focused on her, and smiled. Carmen felt like she could weep. “It’s Graham.”

 

A loud, echoing boom resounded from where they’d come, and she remembered something. “So, how  _ did  _ you know how to sabotage that device?”

 

Gray sat up and eyed the tower, the tips visible above the treetops. “It just felt very… familiar.” He looked up at her. “Do you ever get deja vu?”

 

He then took note of her position over him - her arms beside his waist, her hair falling off her shoulders and onto his thighs - and looked away, clearing his throat. Carmen stood up quickly and offered him a hand, heat crawling up her neck. “Let’s get you back.”

 

He glanced back to her and shook his head, chuckling. “Right.”

 

He took her hand and she helped him up, again ignoring his warmth, and they started to walk toward the substation with an even pace, side by side.

 

It was silent for a while, before Gray ran a hand through his hair and whistled in amazement. “Do you do stuff like this often?”

 

She smirked to herself. “Relatively.”

 

“So was any of it real? I know the performance was a recording… Who was Peter, really? Was he in on it?” He chuckled to himself. “Now that I think about it, his accent was pretty weird.”

 

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Yes, he was in on it. A friend of mine. Player.”

 

Gray stopped suddenly. “Player?” His tone was strangled.

 

“What about him?” She wondered if there was something weird about the name - she never would have mentioned it when he was Crackle. She turned to face him, and took a step back when she saw his shocked expression. “Graham, are you okay?”

 

His eyes latched onto her, running over her face, hair, and body, before finally meeting her eyes again. “A train…?”

 

The air rushed out of Carmen’s lungs so fast it made her dizzy, but he kept talking.

 

“There was a train… I was angry… At Player?” He frowned deeply and held a hand up to his eyes. Carmen could feel dread running down her spine  _ (she mentioned Player on the train) _ , but her mouth refused to work, and he just  _ kept talking _ .

 

“You were there…? You, Carmen, but you weren’t Carmen, you were…” He brought his hand down from his eyes and met her own, and she saw the disbelief in them, clear as day. And yet, she knew his next words, knew them no matter how hard she tried to forget.

 

“Black Sheep.”

 

She was shaking now, and her hands covered her open mouth without her noticing. “Graham…”

 

He stared at her as if only seeing her for the hundredth time. “I prefer Gray, actually.”

 


	4. The Panic, i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmen's old friend remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey folks, this is unbetad so.... sorry if it sucks. also i know it's short! that's on purpose lol.
> 
> i have no real direction for this story but it has another chapter left at least, so... look forward to that i guess!

iv

 

And although Carmen would’ve rather gouged her own eyes out, the scene was set; the sounds of New Zealand wildlife were quiet before the frantic beating of her heart, and the cold, unfamiliar feeling of terror was setting into her bones and making her dizzy.

 

Gray’s confusion didn’t seem to ebb as she stood frozen and instead seemed to grow until he slumped to the ground, head in his hands.

 

“What - What is this?”  He groaned out, and it struck Carmen very suddenly that he could be in pain. Her body jumpstarted at the thought, and she tapped her earpiece immediately. “Player, change of plans. Forward our position to Ivy and Zack. We need an immediate extraction.”

 

“On it.” Player’s response was instant. “What’s happened to Crackle?”

 

She could already hear the van. “I’ll update you later.”

 

Gray was shaking, and she dropped to the ground beside him, trying not to be overwhelmed by fear. “Gray, are you okay? Are you in pain?”

 

He laughed bitterly but didn’t raise his head from his hands. She manoeuvred so she was facing him and reached out to stroke his hair, hoping that some kind of comfort would make him hurt less, worry less, _forgive her,_ but he looked up suddenly and slapped it away. 

 

And he didn’t just slap it, he _gripped_ it, went for her other one, and tipped them over, pinning her hands above her head and straddling her waist. The look on his face was furious, but Carmen’s heart broke at the sight of glistening tears in his eyes. “Why? _Why?_ ”

 

Her traitorous skin warmed at his proximity, but Carmen was far more worried about his mental state. “Gray, I—”

 

“Why did you _leave?_ ” His voice cracked on the last word, and a stray tear fell from his eye to Carmen’s cheek. “I thought - I thought you cared about us!”

 

And Carmen felt like her soul was being torn in two at the rawness of his voice. “Gray…”

 

He let go of one of her hands to scrub a hand roughly across his face. “They… They did this to me…” He was hyperventilating now, and Carmen felt fear spike her again. 

 

She raised her free hand to cup his cheek. “Take some deep breaths, okay?”

 

He closed his eyes against the pain and leaned into her hand, and Carmen’s heart wailed at his broken expression.

 

It seemed to be too much to take in for him, however, as he then collapsed onto her. If she was being rational, she knew he had likely passed out from the influx of emotions; but she wasn’t.

 

“Gray! _Gray!_ ” She rolled them over immediately and put an ear against his chest, straining to hear a heartbeat. 

 

The van’s breaks screeched behind her, and Zack and Ivy tumbled out onto the grass. “Carm! What’s happening? Is he okay?” Zack sounded scared, while Ivy clambered over. 

 

_Bump. Bump. Bump._

 

There it was. She sighed in relief and turned to Ivy, who was reaching out a hand as if to touch him. “Ivy. Grab his feet.”

 

The redhead nodded in understanding immediately. “Oi, bro! Open the back!” She hollered to Zack, then, at Carmen’s count, they hoisted Gray’s dead weight between them and carried him to the backseat of the admittedly not terrible van.

 

Once he was settled, the twins looked at each other, then to Carmen. “We thought you got away unscathed,” Ivy started.

 

Of course, somewhere in the back of her mind, Carmen had realised she would have to tell the two who he really was, and what had happened to him to make him this way. She sighed heavily and motioned for them to get in. “I’ll explain on the way. Let’s go.” 

 

Zack nodded and went around the other side to climb in the driver’s seat, but Ivy hesitated. “You’re gonna need to ride with him. You know, so he doesn’t fall off.”

 

Carmen nodded and stepped into the van, taking care not to fall back onto the seat lest she squashed him. It was difficult, but she maneuvered behind Gray’s head and laid it on her lap. It was a struggle not to stroke his hair.

 

She was thoroughly consumed by it, enough so that it took Zack calling her name three times to draw her attention. “Carmen!”

 

She jumped. “Uh, pardon, Zack?”

 

He eyed her in the rearview mirror. “Where exactly are we going?”

 

Carmen froze. _Where could they take him?_

 

As if sensing her hesitation in her silence, Player interrupted. “If Crackle’s memory is returning, we could bring him to Shadowsan.”

 

She understood what he was asking, then. Could they bring him back to San Diego? Back home?

 

She glanced down at his face, his soft expression a stark contrast to the anger that had possessed it earlier. The part of her that was worried he would run back to VILE was shrinking, replaced by an innate fear of what he would do instead - he would never settle for his job at the Opera House.

 

She caved and stroked his hair, pushing it back behind his ears. Suddenly, although she would have done it a thousand times over if it was anyone else, she knew she couldn’t leave him to fend for himself.

 

And so, it was decided. “Player, book our flights for San Diego. Warn Shadowsan we’re bringing a tagalong.”

 

“Roger that, Red.”

 

“Zack, the airport, please. We’ll leave as soon as possible.”

 

The response she got was a rev of the engine, and they shot off. Without realising, she protected his head from rolling too much, and instead of avoiding it, decided it would be better to completely dedicate all her power to stop him from jostling enough to wake up. 

 

It wasn’t a long drive, of course - Auckland’s streets were well maintained, and you’d be hard-pressed to find large amounts of traffic in any city in the dead of night. Regardless, Carmen’s heart still stuttered at every dip in the road, every stone they drove over, and it felt like forever before they reached the airstrip. Their van slowly rolled up to the side of the plane before chugging to a stop.

 

The jet was already primed to go, and Zack nodded to them before ducking out of the car and walking toward the pilot’s cabin.

 

Ivy sighed in annoyance. “He could’ve at least offered to help.” She glanced back to Carmen and eyed the unconscious Australian. “Well, let’s get him on the plane, ay?”

 

Carmen sighed quietly to herself and nodded, gently lifting his head motioning to Ivy to grab his feet again. “We’ll put him in one of the beds.”

 

Counting to three, they lifted him out of the van and staggered over to the aircraft. The stairs were the difficult part - especially with Carmen’s exhaustion starting to get the better of her.

 

Eventually, they managed to board. The beds weren’t far from the entrance; a few in a small alcove at the back of the plane for long flights. The girls nearly collapsed as they finally lowered him onto the one closest to the door.

 

Ivy sat on the bed next to his and flexed her fingers, wincing as they cracked. “Yeesh, Carm, maybe you should tell him to lay off the vegemite.”

 

“That’s a spread, Ivy, and there’s no way anyone can eat enough of that stuff for it to be an issue.” Carmen ran a hand down her face and felt weariness try to drag her bones to the floor. “I need to sleep.”

 

Ivy jumped up quickly, nodding. “That makes sense. I’ll go check on Zack.” She bounced to the door and flicked off the lights, but hesitated before shutting it, eyeing Gray suspiciously. “He won’t try to off you in your sleep, will he?”

 

Carmen, who had made her way to the bed beside him, used the excuse to look him over again. He looked so calm, the nightlights overhead making his features soft, and the memory of the pain written across them nearly made her shudder. 

 

“No,” She said to Ivy, decisively. “No, he won’t.”

 

Ivy nodded again, apparently satisfied with Carmen’s determination. “Goodnight, then.”

 

She shut the door behind her, and Carmen was left to peeling off her grass-stained coat in the silent dark. Her hat had been lost somewhere in their frantic flight from the building, but she discarded the thought and instead pulled her boots off and flopped face down onto the bed.

 

She restrained herself from groaning into her pillow. Her thoughts were so frantic, so strung between panic and exhaustion, that frustration had quickly been borne within her. 

 

However, Carmen was nothing if not rational, and she knew she needed sleep if she wanted her thoughts to make sense again. With that in mind, she pulled the covers over her, shuddering slightly at the feel of dirty skin against clean sheets, and tried to forget about the man beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check tumblr for updates folks!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> Tumblr: raindrops-on-the-roof


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